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You guys hear People magazine named Beyonce the “world’s most beautiful woman”? Pretty interesting stuff! In other news I read that I’m the strongest man in the world on the back of this Pepsi calendar from 2009 after writing it on there.
what a bizarre, dispiriting cultural blooper where yet again we embarrass ourselves by humoring some impossible accolade awarded to someone who is so supremely foreign and removed from our lives in all meaningful ways they may as well not even exist. I am so fucking horny what is happening to me.
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I know that this it’s typical and run of the mill to post something like this but CHA CHING
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Reminds me of T2
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you nerds hear that snake killed dumbledork?
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I think about the circumstance of loss quite a bit because it seems to manifest itself in larger ways the older (see grumpier, sadder, more bummer’d) I become. I often wonder what takes a more insidious tole on someone: to lose someone with the permanence and decision of death, untimely or expected, or to lose someone through decision, geography, unhappiness, etc. While I will never dare to tidy up the experience of loss I felt when Daniel passed to cystic fibrosis or when my Grandma died “naturally” there is something miserably haunting about losing someone that lingers in the same world you inhabit. Like “fatal loss”, you spitefully probe yourself with questions about “what could have been,” a romantic activity that is as indulgent as it is self destructive, but unlike the aforementioned, “circumstantial loss” allows the greedy hand of speculation to open the door of “what is.” My past few years of pseudo-adulthood have been colored with losses of the “circumstantial” nature and I find myself repeatedly mourning “what is” with these lost individuals. During moments of quietness I let my mind wander to the point where I animate and subsequently seethe over what this person is doing or feeling or fucking which is fucking insane in retrospect. I ramble; yesterday I feel like I lost someone in a “circumstantial” nature. Of course, I may be melodramatic and pretty cheap when it comes to harboring feelings that are just gigantic, but this is what’s on my brain and maybe that’s enough to merit a paragraph.
Remind me to remember my password so I can delete this heinously juvenile shit whenever I get done growing up.
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After a night of some neat celebrity drug use and binge drunking reeling with enthusiasm over seeing my favorite hardcore band reunite I fell asleep around 10:00 AM trying to catch as much sleep as possible for my shift around 1:00 PM. I felt like what I’ve always imagined diabetes was which is basically totally shitty but it wasn’t awful because there were barely any customers (although today was a different story and I am seriously getting concerned with the amount of time some people spend at the fuckin mall) but that isn’t the point but it’s the beginning i’m just giving you context so the rest of it makes sense. Of the people that did choose to spend their day at the mall, a significant amount of them would bashfully admit that today was their “last day to cheat” because, of course, with the new year came that sexy brand new resolve to, in some way, become a better person. Holy FUCK my common sense was begging my eyeballs not to fucking roll every time someone would fulfill the bored look on my face with their 2012 aspirations for changing their diet routine only to barrel into ordering their variation of one of the many revolting cream buckets we sell at my work. Seems to me if you’re the type of person who subscribes to the notion that you will be better prepared to make constructive changes in your life once you traverse to the other side of an arbitrarily set date than you aren’t really that committed to chasing and, ultimately becoming, that taunting ideal figure of yourself that you imagine you might one day achieve. The best time to change is a long fucking time ago, take yourself seriously and quit behaving to the wim of a point in the god damn year. Also, I don’t quit understand why these customers had referred to the first day of the new year as their “last day to cheat” (ugh). What? Because it’s a Sunday or something? It’s the New Year! What the fuck why haven’t you started? A latte wouldn’t even go good with a turkey sandwich.
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Dan gave me a Soulja Boy shirt for Christmas and I went super saiyan 4
NOW MY HAIR BLONDE AND ALL THE BLONDE GIRLS WANNA SUCK MY DIIIIIIIIIIICK
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That moment where you let out all the farts you’ve been holding in cause you’ve been hanging out with girls appreesh.
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So I know I said I wasn’t gonna spend no money on fun or anything from my new job earnings and I’m just going to make bean drink for like half a year till I can get a shitty bucket of a car to rejoin society in but I’m getting a new bed. I have to. There are plenty of cool lookin new beds that I’ve seen on amazon for cheap as all hell that have free shipping which is incredible cause the box is fucking huge! I sleep on a twin, all right? A fucking twin sized mattress. I thought that was normal till people started being sufficiently less creeped out by me, enough to let me on their beds, which dwarfed my fucking fun sized prop from Anne Frank’s sad ass book/life. Do you know how hard it is to get laid in a twin sized bed? I’m not talking about the actual mechanics, I’m talking about the message that small motherfucker sends to any girl unfortunate enough to be convinced that you are prepared to embark on the most intimate thing one human being can do with another when she walks into the room and sees the wimpy box you crawl onto every evening. I am so beyond belief that I have ever achieved intercourse with a girl because of the nega-aphrodisiac gauntlet she has to run before even making it into my bedroom and to think that I have sealed the deal in a bed that looks like it belongs to an action figure is a small miracle that I ponder nightly.
